tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88258460276126798672018-03-06T15:02:55.330-08:00anchor and birdMiriam Hermansennoreply@blogger.comBlogger539125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-16124188531986847532010-04-24T10:10:00.000-07:002010-04-24T10:10:03.143-07:00update your bookmarks!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.anchorandbirdblog.com/">www.anchorandbirdblog.com</a></div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-14328541326867207582010-04-12T15:52:00.000-07:002010-04-12T15:52:06.584-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">dear all,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">i'm happy to introduce:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.anchorandbirdblog.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S8Oi9ounX3I/AAAAAAAAEzU/q8ztbY8RSyU/s640/blog.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>two wonderful blogs all rolled into one. you're welcome.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-86098316308231818192010-04-09T07:29:00.000-07:002010-04-09T07:29:00.102-07:00and you thought it ended there. . .ava: where did we get this baby doll, mom?<br /><br />me: it's not ours. it's chloe's.<br /><br /><i>fifteen minutes later. . .</i><br /><i><br /></i><br />ava: does this baby doll belong to us, mom?<br /><br />me: no. it's chloe's.<br /><br />ava: so, it's not ours?<br /><br />me: i'm not answering that question.<br /><br />ava: who does this belong to, mom? is this is our baby doll?<br /><br />me: no. it's chloe's. and i already told you that. and i'm not answering that question one more time.<br /><br />ava: this doll? this doll isn't ours? yes, it is, mom. it's ours. it's not chloe's. does this doll belong to us? is this our doll? does this doll belong to me or chloe? me or chloe, mom? is it chloe's? did i get this doll when i was a little tiny baby? is this my doll?<br /><br />me: NO! IT BELONGS TO CHLOE! AND! IT! DOES! NOT! BELONG! TO! US!<br /><br />ava: <i>(after a pause) </i>you mean it's not mine?Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-20714829062495984812010-04-08T06:18:00.000-07:002010-04-08T06:18:00.380-07:00this morning6:30 this morning. I am shamelessly still in bed. ava and seth are not. ava runs to my bedside, grabs my arm and shakes it.<br /><br />ava: MOM! sethy is eating the DOG FOOD RIGHT OUT OF THE BAG!!<br /><div><br /></div><div>me: ugh, that's gross.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: GROSS!</div><div><br /></div><div>me: SETH! GET AWAY FROM THE DOG FOOD!! (no response) ava, go shut the cupboard door so seth can't get to sam's food anymore.</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: what door?</div><div><br /></div><div>me: the door where the food is.</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: in the bathroom?</div><div><br /></div><div>me: yes.</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: you want me to shut it?</div><div><br /></div><div>me: yes, please.</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: the cupboard doors?</div><div><br /></div><div>me: yeah.</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: both of them at the same time?</div><div><br /></div><div>me: Yes.</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: so seth won't be able to eat sam's food anymore?</div><div><br /></div><div>me: yup.</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: that's gross. right, mom?</div><div><br /></div><div>me: ava! go shut those doors!</div><div><br /></div><div>ava: O-KAY!! i'm doing it!</div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-26392607816513666682010-04-07T13:51:00.000-07:002010-04-07T13:51:36.984-07:00dear all,<br />i'm not a fan of the extra work it takes to maintain a <a href="http://anchorandbirdphotography.blogspot.com/">photo blog</a> and a me blog and was wondering, how would you feel if i combined the two?<br /><br />please comment and say 'yes' or 'no'. i'll even let you comment anonymously so my feelings aren't hurt.<br /><br />thank you,<br />managementMiriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-64473271659917998162010-04-06T08:15:00.000-07:002010-04-06T08:15:13.021-07:00i'd like to register this complaint against my childyesterday, seth was awful. like, i was getting a tour of all the gluten free options whole foods has to offer from a very enthusiastic whole foods employee and seth was doing everything in his power to deter me. like, taking off his shoe and throwing it. or nearly falling out of the cart, like, six times.<br /><br />so, in the midst of his being awful yesterday, the boy kneed me in the jaw. and it hurt. it was an awful sort of pain that rang through the entire right side of my jaw and then moved into my teeth, then up next to my eye. finally, it settled in my right temple. and it stayed there. and i nearly died. the pain was massive, crippling. i couldn't open my eye, i couldn't talk. i felt like throwing up.<br /><br />meanwhile, that awful child napped for only an hour and i had a magazine to proof read, a pr piece to follow up on, a photo shoot to arrange and a few phone calls to make. not to mention that the entire house was showing signs of my weekend insanity (i really did go insane last weekend. it was delicious). also, we might have to show up to my photo shoot naked because i really, really need to do the laundry.<br /><br />guess what? ryan came home and watched the children for an hour while i held very still in our dark bedroom. and then, ryan's mother came and took the kids for the afternoon so i could continue to lay flat and ryan could get back to work.<br /><br />it was wonderful. seriously, i wasn't quite sure how i was going to get through the day. what a wonderful, wonderful mother in law i have. she's so willing, so kind, so good. i am so grateful for her.<br /><br />additional notes: the gluten free stuff isn't for me, it's for my mom. the doctors think she's allergic to gluten.<br /><br />my weekend insanity resulted in:&nbsp;cinnamon&nbsp;rolls, waffles, wheat bread, banana bread, chicken noodle soup, fresh rolls, tres leche cake, chicken pot pie and plans for fresh butter. my friend cara has awakened the sleeping chef in me and i'm thrilled to see her again, although a little tired.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-69576794493847588712010-03-31T20:57:00.000-07:002010-03-31T20:57:01.714-07:00mother of year. i mean it.today i got my mom on and made cupcakes. let me just restate that so you can appreciate it fully: I FREAKING MADE CUPCAKES. <br /><br />now let me help you understand that statement: i am a maker of food, yes. but a maker of cute food? no. cake pops? not my thing. so when i sit down and say, "let's make cupcakes and then let's dye some coconut green and make nests on the top of cupcakes and take cadbury mini eggs and put them in the nests." you know i'm bored. and that maybe i have extra time on my hands? and some weird spurt of creativity that's not getting channeled into anything? <br /><br />this all thrilled ava to the point of nearly sending her into cardiac arrest. the whole time she was like, WE'RE MAKING NESTS IN THE CUPCAKES? WE'RE PUTTING CANDY ON THE CUPCAKES? CAN I LICK THE BOWL? and i was all, of course you can. and then she nearly killed me with her gratitude. and then i felt like i was the best mom in the world. <br /><br />what a rush. no wonder there are all of those mothers making cute little sugar cookies every holiday. these holiday treats? they make your children worship you. and here i've been, all this time, trying to get ava to just put on her freaking shoes so we can make it to the doctor's office on time. all i had to do was be like, hey! what if we made a log cabin out of licorice and pretzel sticks to celebrate abraham lincoln's birthday? <br /><br />instant mother of the year award. <br /><br />so after an afternoon of a small daughter who put on a little apron with gusto and stirred and tasted and licked and exclaimed with great enthusiasm i was feeling like perhaps i'd solved a few of the planer's problems. and ryan got home and i greeted him at the door with a giant cupcake topped with a mountain of coconut and some cadbury eggs and i was like, GUESS WHAT? I MADE CUPCAKES! AND THEY LOOK LIKE NESTS! WITH EGGS IN THEM!<br /><br />and ryan smiled and said, "great." except it was like, great, you did something normal. so i pushed that cupcake under his nose and emphasized.<br /><br />COCONUT NEST. LITTLE EGGS. <br /><br />and his face barely flickered with interest. <br /><br />sadly, at this point, my interest also faded and i registered that my huge project, yielding cupcakes covered in food coloring and chocolate had turned my kitchen in to a disaster area. over the next hour of clean up and small children coming off of a sugar high, i remembered why i never got around to making that house out of licorice and pretzel sticks: my children's willingness to worship isn't really worth the effort it takes to get it. maybe next year.<br /><br />pictures to follow. if i can muster the strength.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-79941710874815849922010-03-30T20:15:00.000-07:002010-03-30T20:19:40.318-07:00what came for meit has arrived. long awaited, definitely and now that it's here i feel like it's been set in the middle of the hall and i trip over it every time i walk through: much like i trip over sam and buddha wrestling every morning.<br /><br />sometimes when i think about being a mom i remember scenes from movies that are meant to be comedic; when there are wrestling, running, sticky, messy children and animals EVERYWHERE and the poor mother or overwhelmed visitor is trying to get by and they are stepping over people and things and being bumped against the wall to avoid&nbsp;catastrophe. . . that's how i feel in this little house of ours. every morning i feel as though there are hundreds of children and animals and they are running non-stop with their arms over their heads and screaming and i must somehow make my way around them without getting hurt. sometimes, if i am performing this task especially well, i will be forced to hold something like a basket of laundry or a crying child or a small cat that's about to have his fur trimmed by an eager child with scissors. sometimes, if i am doing that too well, i must walk the course while holding something and having something else hold on to my leg.<br /><br />more than feeling any sense of outrage or frustration with this situation, i wonder, how do they do that? how do those four little creatures (girl, boy, dog and cat) multiply like that?<br /><br />so the thing that arrived: it came yesterday and i have been staring at it all day. it was there at eliza's birthday party when i held stephanie's baby boy and he pulled his pacifier out of his mouth and with strict determination rolled it around and around near his tongue, trying to figure out how to get it back in. and i stared at it again when i watched brittany's sweet, sweet little baby with his big dark eyes and his adorable little curl on top of his head and i wished, wished, wished to take more pictures of him.<br /><br />that's right: i'm baby hungry.<br /><br />so ryan and i snuck away this afternoon to eat gelato right before dinner (thanks aaron!) and we were supposed to discuss a plan put forth by my chiropractor to cure the back my children have destroyed but instead i answered ryan's question of, "how will we pay for this?" with, "i want a baby."<br /><br />and ryan raised his eyebrows, paused, and responded the way he responds when i say, "I want a kitten." he said, "you have a baby. his name is seth." (except when i ask for a kitten he says, "you have a kitten. his name is buddha")<br /><br />and while ryan is correct, because every afternoon seth wakes up from his nap in a complete daze and i hold him on my lap and he rests his cheek against my chest until he feels more alert and then i ask him, "do you want a snack?" and he looks up at me, completely solemn, pulls his pacifier from his mouth and nods the most solemn nod you ever saw. also, he wears footsy pajamas. he sleeps with a blankee. i let him take a bit of a bottle to bed with him at night. he doesn't really talk much (that could be ava. she sort of uses up all the words in the room. no one really gets to talk with her around).<br /><br />but at the same time, he wants to go outside and play with the other children. he wants to play soccer in the backyard. he wants to play fetch with sam. the other night he wasn't going to sleep in his bedroom. instead he was calling, "Mom? Mom?"<br /><br />and finally i shouted, "WHAT?"<br /><br />and he paused, then said, "more?"<br /><br />and i sighed a deep sigh of frustration because FOR THE LOVE OF PETE CHILD CAN'T YOU JUST GO TO SLEEP ALREADY??? and i shouted, "you want more bottle?"<br /><br />and again he paused and then he shouted, "yes."<br /><br />and then i sighed another deep sigh, thrust myself from my cozy spot on the couch and went to his bedroom. where ava was sleeping and seth was standing and smiling and holding his bottle out for me.<br /><br />i must be crazy. how can i live in the chaos which is my life, how can i attempt a grocery shopping trip which is so much like herding cats that some days i just won't go because i just can't muster the energy, how can i stand to add even more laundry to the abundant piles around me, how can i manage one more nap schedule, entertain one more person, hold one more hand?<br /><br />and yet i have room for one more. somehow. somewhere. and i'm excited. i anticipate those little hands holding mine after eating a good meal and burping a good burp and seeing those first brand new toothless smiles that are random and so, so beautiful.<br /><br />obviously, it'll be awhile. i mean, i'm not going to go out and get pregnant tomorrow, but at least i know i'm ready. and that i want it. and also, that i'm crazy. and perhaps, that i have a death wish. but really, is that any sort of surprise?Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-53187309887134120412010-03-29T05:37:00.000-07:002010-03-29T05:37:00.173-07:00beach<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6--sD1NzyI/AAAAAAAAEvA/m76LHvAFvEs/s1600-h/ryan%20keeping%20seth%20afloat%20blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6--sD1NzyI/AAAAAAAAEvA/m76LHvAFvEs/s640/ryan%20keeping%20seth%20afloat%20blog.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6--XfnFn9I/AAAAAAAAEu4/jQQ9LG1L2go/s1600-h/happy%20beach%20faces%20blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6--XfnFn9I/AAAAAAAAEu4/jQQ9LG1L2go/s640/happy%20beach%20faces%20blog.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6--lTY6fiI/AAAAAAAAEu8/oJsYeX4bJBs/s1600-h/all+three+at+the+shoreline+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6--lTY6fiI/AAAAAAAAEu8/oJsYeX4bJBs/s640/all+three+at+the+shoreline+blog.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6-_FtLzJkI/AAAAAAAAEvE/LFcHYi_nlWA/s1600-h/seth+and+me+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6-_FtLzJkI/AAAAAAAAEvE/LFcHYi_nlWA/s640/seth+and+me+blog.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6-_Y7rTGcI/AAAAAAAAEvQ/1ZwaaP4QbTI/s1600-h/the+children+and+me+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6-_Y7rTGcI/AAAAAAAAEvQ/1ZwaaP4QbTI/s640/the+children+and+me+blog.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6-_MxsR5PI/AAAAAAAAEvM/d7rRbojyQ_0/s1600-h/teh+children+and+me+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6-_MxsR5PI/AAAAAAAAEvM/d7rRbojyQ_0/s640/teh+children+and+me+blog.jpg" width="426" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6--QtVlMAI/AAAAAAAAEu0/fbB4J6GG-WQ/s1600-h/ava+at+the+beach+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6--QtVlMAI/AAAAAAAAEu0/fbB4J6GG-WQ/s640/ava+at+the+beach+blog.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>yeah, yeah, yeah, you've heard it before: i love summer. i love the beach. i love photography. but i also really love that rayn was willing to take pictures of me so there is proof that i exist, that ava and seth wanted to go in the water and got completely soaked and that we got to eat trader joe's tuna sandwiches and oatmeal raisin cookies.<br /><br />what a good saturday.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com7Point Dume, Malibu, CA, USA34.014608 -118.80177133.996822 -118.8309535 34.032394000000004 -118.7725885tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-62667308773094997022010-03-26T05:54:00.000-07:002010-03-26T05:54:00.279-07:00proud to be mine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6q06qCfR6I/AAAAAAAAEtc/LVZp6f3ihNk/s1600/seth+and+daddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6q06qCfR6I/AAAAAAAAEtc/LVZp6f3ihNk/s640/seth+and+daddy.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">so the other night at dinner, we had the missionaries over and we were talking about what time of the day we were born. "i remember what time seth was born exactly," i was saying, "11:58 PM. Just two minutes away from being born the next day," i looked over at that little naked man in his highchair, noodles on his chin, broth in is hair (making it stick up in a sort of haphazard way), and i just couldn't help myself, i started to gush, "and now he's here, my little baby seth," and then seth beamed and looked around at everyone who was looking at him and smiling like he was just so proud. like, <i>yes. i. am! her little baby seth!</i>&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br />man, this whole parenting thing can be so worth it sometimes.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-3879996693195183232010-03-25T05:18:00.000-07:002010-03-25T05:18:00.202-07:00sheesh, these two. am i right?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6qz8oGeeZI/AAAAAAAAEtU/Dr4BE6ifZkI/s1600/ava+and+daddy+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6qz8oGeeZI/AAAAAAAAEtU/Dr4BE6ifZkI/s640/ava+and+daddy+2.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6qsvy5ttsI/AAAAAAAAEtM/m4OcbTD2E8o/s1600/ava+and+daddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6qsvy5ttsI/AAAAAAAAEtM/m4OcbTD2E8o/s640/ava+and+daddy.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-78333417225298726902010-03-24T06:40:00.000-07:002010-03-24T06:40:00.469-07:00the cousins go to the zoo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: auto;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fU8MOm1SI/AAAAAAAAEsY/zhjCxzYoJFE/s1600-h/zoo+car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fU8MOm1SI/AAAAAAAAEsY/zhjCxzYoJFE/s640/zoo+car.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>mad that he's not driving</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fRMFhHDaI/AAAAAAAAEsQ/b-_x4OHhl6Q/s1600-h/the+zoo+fountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fRMFhHDaI/AAAAAAAAEsQ/b-_x4OHhl6Q/s640/the+zoo+fountain.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>watching the koi</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fM_sqp7WI/AAAAAAAAEsA/0Q3CT0OGyIc/s1600-h/seth+and+the+flamingos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fM_sqp7WI/AAAAAAAAEsA/0Q3CT0OGyIc/s640/seth+and+the+flamingos.jpg" width="428" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fNp73UfII/AAAAAAAAEsI/T9b5W2GRy-k/s1600-h/seth+and+the+fountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fNp73UfII/AAAAAAAAEsI/T9b5W2GRy-k/s640/seth+and+the+fountain.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fL7AJ2uHI/AAAAAAAAEr4/XU-OsEC4-3U/s1600-h/davis+and+the+flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fL7AJ2uHI/AAAAAAAAEr4/XU-OsEC4-3U/s640/davis+and+the+flowers.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>baby davis stomping in the mud</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fIRHSVppI/AAAAAAAAEro/34wjeJa-nmo/s1600-h/ava+and+seth+egg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fIRHSVppI/AAAAAAAAEro/34wjeJa-nmo/s640/ava+and+seth+egg.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fLCCK0H0I/AAAAAAAAErw/Z0Iz7AQM7w0/s1600-h/ava+in+the+train.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6fLCCK0H0I/AAAAAAAAErw/Z0Iz7AQM7w0/s640/ava+in+the+train.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>ava and davis on the train</i></div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-14099939697653142652010-03-23T06:01:00.000-07:002010-03-23T12:22:20.309-07:00cousins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bwRy3FuoI/AAAAAAAAErQ/5IbrJx-EDa0/s1600-h/cousins+candid+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bwRy3FuoI/AAAAAAAAErQ/5IbrJx-EDa0/s640/cousins+candid+5.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bxKwThxUI/AAAAAAAAErY/sq5ArOgaIPA/s1600-h/seth+on+ava%27s+shoulder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bxKwThxUI/AAAAAAAAErY/sq5ArOgaIPA/s640/seth+on+ava%27s+shoulder.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bx81oQENI/AAAAAAAAErg/WlLGxANhHVw/s1600-h/3+cousins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bx81oQENI/AAAAAAAAErg/WlLGxANhHVw/s640/3+cousins.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bvomXYPWI/AAAAAAAAErI/61Mlt_tWVnc/s1600-h/cousins+candid+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bvomXYPWI/AAAAAAAAErI/61Mlt_tWVnc/s640/cousins+candid+4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>davis crying and seth trying to hand her the teddy bear</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bsRSLOo5I/AAAAAAAAEqw/xlzCJKD1J9o/s1600-h/cousins+candid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="427" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bsRSLOo5I/AAAAAAAAEqw/xlzCJKD1J9o/s640/cousins+candid.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>as i look through my viewfinder, i see seth slowly lean back without changing his expression. next thing i know, he's flat on his back. perhaps a sign that he'd had enough?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bsRSLOo5I/AAAAAAAAEqw/xlzCJKD1J9o/s1600-h/cousins+candid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6buDg2LE8I/AAAAAAAAEq4/d1UpHBOifq8/s1600-h/cousins+candid+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6buDg2LE8I/AAAAAAAAEq4/d1UpHBOifq8/s640/cousins+candid+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>davis' sign: she turned around</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6buDg2LE8I/AAAAAAAAEq4/d1UpHBOifq8/s1600-h/cousins+candid+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bu1gMmuvI/AAAAAAAAErA/zjkvHVxU22M/s1600-h/cousins+candid+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bu1gMmuvI/AAAAAAAAErA/zjkvHVxU22M/s640/cousins+candid+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>seth is actually digging something out of the wood AND EATING IT</i></div><br />set and ava have one cousin: her name is davis. and this weekend davis came out to visit with her parents, shannon and justin. since all three grandchildren were constantly hanging out together, kristine requested a picture. and we sure tried to give it to her.<br /><br />at one point shannon and kristine were dancing wildly in the weeds, swinging their arms, laughing hysterically and singing, "a wise man build his house upon a rock. . ." and while ryan laughed and seth looked puzzled (you'll notice his expression doesn't change. i don't think he smiled once), i shouted, "RODGE! RODGE!" because the reflector was being held askew and there was shadow on seth's face.<br /><br />remind me to never do that again.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-85525118208556623572010-03-22T06:40:00.000-07:002010-03-22T06:40:00.151-07:00it doesn't look like she asked for it, but she did<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bnDJ8-owI/AAAAAAAAEqg/GxqFy5WPDHg/s1600-h/ava+abused.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6bnDJ8-owI/AAAAAAAAEqg/GxqFy5WPDHg/s640/ava+abused.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6boPI0-1kI/AAAAAAAAEqo/0kKnJ40tybM/s1600-h/but+he%27s+not.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6boPI0-1kI/AAAAAAAAEqo/0kKnJ40tybM/s640/but+he%27s+not.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />so did he, but you can tell.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-69109778086671071692010-03-21T16:53:00.000-07:002010-03-21T16:53:56.098-07:00so i'm sitting on my mom's bed one morning and she said, "i check your blog everyday for pictures of my grandchildren."<br /><br />and i said, "are there enough?" and she replied, (most emphatically),<br /><br />"NO!"<br /><br />just guessing here, i'll bet chris and kristine and my dad would agree. so, chris and kristine, mom and dad, in honor of you and your rabid affection for my offspring (and therefore, your offspring), i give you a WEEK FULL OF PICTUUUUUUURRRRRREEEESSSS (yelled like oprah)!!!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">(starting tomorrow)</div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-20797331526559618382010-03-19T08:29:00.000-07:002010-03-19T08:29:41.950-07:00weekly boychild<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6OVtS4pmzI/AAAAAAAAEqY/2xrLTVXB6dM/s1600-h/ava+not+dancing+seth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6OVtS4pmzI/AAAAAAAAEqY/2xrLTVXB6dM/s640/ava+not+dancing+seth.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>aside from the hysterical laughter after watching ava NOT dance, i turned around to see my father doing what both of seth's grandfather's do when they first hold him. something about this kid makes grown men attack with love. and look, he doesn't even mind.</i></div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-67126840093457317632010-03-19T08:16:00.000-07:002010-03-19T08:16:41.401-07:00weekly mouse<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6OU-OjnGkI/AAAAAAAAEqQ/ah7rwC2m42A/s1600-h/ava.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6OU-OjnGkI/AAAAAAAAEqQ/ah7rwC2m42A/s640/ava.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-60012318497396265172010-03-17T06:00:00.000-07:002010-03-17T06:00:12.261-07:00smells like teen spirit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6BwuqRHNcI/AAAAAAAAEqI/6f8kxhwcEi0/s1600-h/kevin+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S6BwuqRHNcI/AAAAAAAAEqI/6f8kxhwcEi0/s640/kevin+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">i'm all, kevin, let me take a picture of you.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and suddenly, he's freaking out! he's all, why? what are you going to do with it? what should i do? i don't know what to do! what do you want a picture of me for? should i smile? do you want me to stand still? this is hard!&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and i'm all, sheesh! you haven't even done anything yet!&nbsp;and then i practically had to wait five minutes for him to pull himself together enough for me to grab this quick shot, which shows the colorful hand uh, markings? art projects? grafitti of the hands? he comes home with them every day. and every time i see him i'm all, what happened to your hands?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and he's all, it's the lyric to a song.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">oh yeah. i forgot how deep teenagers are. how real. how emotional. and i'm so glad i never have to do that again.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">having said all that, i really love that kid.&nbsp;</div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-30958753186681764092010-03-16T08:27:00.000-07:002010-03-16T08:27:00.363-07:00found:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S52pXPqAyhI/AAAAAAAAEpA/CQsNock2Wq4/s1600-h/honey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S52pXPqAyhI/AAAAAAAAEpA/CQsNock2Wq4/s640/honey.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>the honey. in the playouse. in the backyard.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>also found: a can of green chilies in the back of the tricycle</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>all of my measuring spoons at the bottom of the doll crib</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>my shoes in the bathroom</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>seth's shoes in the shower</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>my phone charger under ava's pillow</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div>all this time i thought, 'something must be wrong with me! i can't remember where all my stuff is!' but now i realize it's not me, it's them.<br /><br />it's almost a relief to know i'm not crazy.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-16421898956073053962010-03-15T07:24:00.000-07:002010-03-15T07:24:00.323-07:00a married momentdo you ever have those moments with your spouse when you're trying to express your thoughts on a serious topic and they just won't have it and make jokes at every turn?<br /><br />dude. ryan does that ALL THE TIME.<br /><br />and this morning i told him, "i've had it with you."<br /><br />and he said, "really? you've reached the end of your rope?" except he didn't sound concerned, he sounded interested. like this topic is way more fun than that other one she was talking about!<br /><br />"yes," I said, "i have."<br /><br />"well, lady, let me give you a piece of advice," he said, "when you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on."<br /><br />and then i chased him with a wooden spoon.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-41522274559416855992010-03-12T08:05:00.000-08:002010-03-12T08:05:00.570-08:00SSS (swim suit season)so. swimming suit season.<br /><br />it's almost here.<br /><br />and, what's worse, i signed us all up for swimming classes starting the middle of march. we're going to try ava's class AGAIN to see if she can learn something this time. and by "see if she can learn something this time" i really mean. . .um, see if she can learn something this time but in the best possible way (cheesy smiley face so you don't get offended). because last year she refused to get past the first step in the pool and then a couple times her teacher got her out in the water but she freaked out and climbed him and clung to his head as if she were a cartoon character. at the end of the class ryan the swimming teacher came up to me with his clipboard and said, "well, in this class we try to teach the children different things so they can move on to the next class," i peeked at the list. it said things like, "kicks on the kick board, puts head under water, blows bubbles" and do i really need to tell you about how one time ryan the swimming teacher&nbsp;approached&nbsp;ava with the idea that she could stick only half of her face under water and blow some really fun bubbles and she kicked him in the face as she got away from him as fast as she possibly could? ryan the swimming teacher mentioned a few of the other items on the list and then he took a deep breath and started apologetically, "i'm sorry, but i don't think that ava's really ready for the next class yet."<br /><br />this made me laugh. yeah, i didn't think so either, but thanks for attempting to spare my feelings, ryan the swimming teacher.<br /><br />so, another swimming lesson season has come and i've signed ava up for another round of lessons. these lessons are only thirty minutes long and for awhile i was concerned with what i was going to do with seth during these lessons until i put two and two together and thought, "hey! i'll sign him up for mommy and me swimming class!"<br /><br />well, that would be great if I DIDN'T HAVE TO GET IN THE POOL. too late. the class has been filled, seth has a swimming suit and on monday i went to target to try to find one that would flatter (hah!) my matronly figure. well, that was a HORRIBLE idea. because guess what? seth doesn't like to sit in a dressing room while his mother tries on swim suits. so i'm mid-change and seth THROWS open the door and RUNS for his life. and ava chases him screaming. and i'm standing there in my underwear with a swimming suit half on.<br /><br />well that's just GREAT. so i change, grab my children, head back out to the swim suit section and grab every swim suit in every size i think i might want and i buy them all. then i get home and try them all on after the children have gone to sleep. i'll return the unwanted ones later.<br /><br />much better. except for the fact that after this is all over, i'm going to still have to don the swim suit and get in the pool in a couple weeks.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-74423639193389292692010-03-11T16:06:00.000-08:002010-03-11T16:06:00.349-08:00be stilli forget to be quiet sometimes.<br /><br />i love my quiet time, but i don't think i've been spending much of it quiet these days. as soon as seth goes down for a nap and as soon as ava is off to play with a friend, or is watching a movie (her "quiet time") i sit down with my long list of items and start moving quickly to check them off.<br /><br />fold the laundry.<br />write that email.<br />start the rolls for dinner tonight.<br />edit those pictures.<br /><br />and while i'm working hard, i listen to music, or a podcast, or watch a tv show.<br /><br />nothing about my "quiet" time is quiet (it's more like "quite a time", haha!).<br /><br />today, seth woke up from his nap early and ava was still playing with a friend so, in the quiet of our afternoon, we built a train set together, taking up all the room in the middle of the used-to-be clean toyroom/office. and instead, of using the train tracks, seth ran his train up and down my arm, sucking madly on his pacifier.<br /><br />and i tried to keep my mind quiet about all of the things i could get done in this thursday afternoon stillness, so i closed my eyes and let seth's little train run down my back and i felt the touch his sticky hand on my hair.<br /><br /><i>this is who i am.&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><br />i am a mom with sticky hair. i recognize the sound of a small boy sucking his pacifier like i recognize the sound of my own heart. this quiet afternoon is <i>mine</i>&nbsp;and i am sharing it with my baby. the same baby i shared my body with, the same baby that reminds me, whether i like it or not, <i>this</i>&nbsp;is the best thing i can be doing with my time.<br /><br />i know this in my heart, that motherhood is more than "my job" or even "my calling", it is a thing so <i>real </i>and so <i>vital</i>&nbsp;that it is indistinguishable from any other part of me. my eyelash, my heart, my toenail.<br /><br />thank goodness for those moments when ryan and i were newlywed and we tried to decide about when to start our families, that we didn't wait.<br /><br />thank goodness for the little mouse and the baby boy who greet me daily and make demands of me all day long.Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-85679273670714399732010-03-10T04:12:00.000-08:002010-03-10T04:12:00.155-08:00a man child in a tie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WTU1qYYbI/AAAAAAAAEoo/ONtLqBy4I-k/s1600-h/slo+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WTU1qYYbI/AAAAAAAAEoo/ONtLqBy4I-k/s400/slo+4.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>took about six billion of these just to finally--FINALLY get one of these:</i><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WUXcYhmYI/AAAAAAAAEow/Pg41ZN9S8Q4/s1600-h/seth+tie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WUXcYhmYI/AAAAAAAAEow/Pg41ZN9S8Q4/s640/seth+tie.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>he's practicing for his general authority picture</i></div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-44278455610591525332010-03-09T03:33:00.000-08:002010-03-09T03:33:00.464-08:00bubbles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WKXZ6NDdI/AAAAAAAAEn4/J3SAEYW9kEg/s1600-h/bubbles+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WKXZ6NDdI/AAAAAAAAEn4/J3SAEYW9kEg/s400/bubbles+7.jpg" width="267" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WLycXviTI/AAAAAAAAEoA/0mL9WCxCBL4/s1600-h/bubbles+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WLycXviTI/AAAAAAAAEoA/0mL9WCxCBL4/s400/bubbles+5.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WNppeGjlI/AAAAAAAAEoI/AsCr-p3g9b8/s1600-h/bubbles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WNppeGjlI/AAAAAAAAEoI/AsCr-p3g9b8/s400/bubbles.jpg" width="267" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WPg1A-p_I/AAAAAAAAEoQ/7VzcAVpEvaI/s1600-h/bubbles+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WPg1A-p_I/AAAAAAAAEoQ/7VzcAVpEvaI/s400/bubbles+2.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WQkN6zVGI/AAAAAAAAEoY/Bjzmdj-oYVE/s1600-h/bubbles+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WQkN6zVGI/AAAAAAAAEoY/Bjzmdj-oYVE/s400/bubbles+4.jpg" width="267" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WRlQD2e8I/AAAAAAAAEog/hi3v7b0muwA/s1600-h/bubbles+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WRlQD2e8I/AAAAAAAAEog/hi3v7b0muwA/s400/bubbles+6.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>even sam loves bubbles</i></div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8825846027612679867.post-20717448808481992462010-03-08T14:54:00.000-08:002010-03-27T08:18:26.732-07:00young and freeava has been dancing her whole life. she's got these hips that don't lie and a groove thang that can put all other little white girl booty shakes to shame. really. so, when the parks and rec catalog floated in and i saw dance classes for toddlers, we signed up. and got ballet shoes. and wore them with socks. and tiptoed everywhere.<br /><br />this class was the kind of class which doesn't let the mothers watch. i think seth was relieved to learn that. and i was fine with it, too, i swear. except that this was me leaving ava alone with a woman i didn't really know and when i walked away i had this loud, awful nagging feeling, as if i was leaving something important behind (well, i was. i was leaving my child). and that feeling didn't go away. i walked seth across the grass to a nearby playground where we climbed things that were taller than we were and threw sand into the air. and i spent half the time, turning around, looking for the other child and feeling a slight panic rise in my throat when i realized i couldn't see her anywhere. and then i'd remember: dance class. and then i'd feel irritated that i was so uneasy for no reason.<br /><br />to the childless out there: THIS is what having children does to you. it makes you SO EMOTIONAL you emote for no good reason at all. IT CAN BE WORSE THAN PREGNANCY (which is worse, by the way, than PMS).<br /><br />i mentioned that ava loves her class, right? well, she does. and every week i go pick her up and her teacher stamps her hand, smiles at me and assures me that ava's doing well. which is necessary information since i just left my kid alone with her for 40 minutes and damnit, she better have had a good time!<br /><br />i'm told that there's to be a recital. something that i remember really well until the week of the recital. even the day of ryan asks me, "where do i go to watch ava's dance class?"<br /><br />did i mention that parenthood means you no longer remember anything? because that happens, too.<br /><br />so i kick myself for not remembering to inform my mother in law, remind my own mother who has a dentist appointment and hurry us all up so we can get over there on time. i do not want to be the mother who is late and misses the whole thing.<br /><br />we get in there, get our seats, spot my dad, who, at the last minute, has had the chance to slip in, ava's got her little tutu on and her hair in a ponytail and it begins.<br /><br />the teacher sort of stands to the side and helps the girls know what to do by doing it and those girls start mimicking with a sort of clumsy and joyful enthusiasm. they're hopping haphazardly, they're throwing their arms in the air, they're watching their parent's faces and cameras beam at them with pride.<br /><br />except ava. who, for some unknown reason, is angry. and stands there the entire time like this:<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5V_nMMakwI/AAAAAAAAEno/1EWZYO3cf1I/s1600-h/ava+not+dancing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5V_nMMakwI/AAAAAAAAEno/1EWZYO3cf1I/s640/ava+not+dancing.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />THE ENTIRE TIME. about halfway through another mother, who is sitting right next to me, leans over to comment, "she seems rather pissed off."<br /><br />and i can only say, through my tears from laughing so hard the entire classroom is shaking, "she does, doesn't she?"<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WAqClYMaI/AAAAAAAAEnw/1Roi721dWm4/s1600-h/ava+not+dancing+grandpa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ye-7VPnBz-s/S5WAqClYMaI/AAAAAAAAEnw/1Roi721dWm4/s640/ava+not+dancing+grandpa.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>naturally, she was fine afterwards</i></div>Miriam Hermansenhttps://plus.google.com/109538867684978869922noreply@blogger.com7